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The madness of dating

December 19, 2014

Sometimes people-watching is agonising.

In the cafe at the table next to me, a Dickensian-looking bloke in his early 60s stands and moves paper between the pockets of his hill walking outfit.

His date is of similar age. I reckon they’ve just met, but she’s looking doubtful. She’s spotted behaviours that scream: “You will never get these hours back.”

She sits still, hands gently clasped, focusing on the spectacles in her grip.

Three minutes pass. She stands and asks, “Shall we go?”

He returns to the 21st century momentarily, nods in agreement and then starts looking for the mobile phone he put in his mini rucksack minutes before.

His date walks off out the door where she’ll make the decision of the evening: not whether to run or stay, but whether to advise he discuss his absentmindedness with his GP.

Filed in: Personal

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